


when i cannot sing my heart

by weatheredlaw



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brother-Sister Relationships, Flashbacks, Gen, class swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 14:48:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12684057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: And he did not remember that this song was for her, that it was his –But he was playing it. Right here in front of her.





	when i cannot sing my heart

_(i can only speak my mind)_

 

* * *

 

She hummed the song absently, without much regard to who was in the room with her. Typically she was alone, but she had allowed Magnus to come by her office that afternoon to look through her library. He'd mentioned he was looking for books of old songs, and Lucretia had offered him a few hours with her personal collection without thought.

It was so _easy_ to want to fall into old habits, to want to look up and tease him for living in the past. They'd done these things on the ship, gone scouring for old books or ancient instruments. Magnus's love of music was matched only by his love of hiking to the tallest peak. He was the most unlikely bard Lucretia had ever met – but he was certainly one of the most talented.

She didn't speak much to him that afternoon, however. He sat with his back to the shelf, several books at his feet. She noticed he'd placed little slips of paper where they needed to go, and her gut _twisted._

He'd done that to her shelf on the ship, too.

Lucretia looked down at her work, busied herself with reading over contracts and letters. And without thought, she began to hum. Magnus looked up.

“What's that?”

Lucretia stopped. “What is what?”

“That song. The one you're humming.” He closed the book in his lap and set it aside. “What is it?”

She stared. She needed an excuse, something to say, a lie to tell –

 _Gods_ , she was so tired of lying to him.

This one time...this one _small_ truth – it couldn't hurt.

Could it?

“It's a song that was...written for me. A long time ago.” Magnus wiggled his brows. “Not like _that._ ” She sighed. “A friend of mine, a man who...who was like my brother. He wrote it for me when I was particularly sad. I've...never forgotten it.”

Magnus stood and began placing some of the books back in their spots. “I like it a lot.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. Was your friend a bard?” Lucretia nodded. “Is he...I mean, did he--”

“He is gone, but he...isn't dead, if that's what you're asking.”

Magnus's expression brightened. “Do you need us to go find him?”

Lucretia smiled. “No...no it's not like that. It's...more complicated.”

Magnus nodded. “Gotcha.” He held up a few of the books. “Mind if I borrow these? Won't keep 'em long.”

“Of course, Magnus. Take whatever you'd like.”

He grinned and tucked the books under his arm. “Thanks, really appreciate it,” he said, and gave her a wave before taking off.

Lucretia put her face in her hands.

She would have wept, but the will to do so had left years ago.

So instead, remembered – he'd come into the sitting room and tucked himself onto the sofa with her, strumming his lute and leaning against her. “I wrote you something.”

“I'm not in the mood.”

“Nah, it's nice, not goofy.” Lucretia raised a brow. “Alright, your suspicions are _totally_ justified. But hear me out, okay?” She nodded and gave him room to play.

He was right, in the end.

It _was_ very nice after all.

 

* * *

 

Magnus couldn't get the song out of his head. He thought about it all the way back to their shared apartment, coming in just as Taako and Merle were pulling food from the mess out of brown bags.

“We got dinner to go.”

“Uh-huh.”

Taako raised a brow. “What's up, big guy?”

“Just got a song stuck in my head.” Magnus set the books down on the kitchen table and went to his room, pulling out his lute and giving it a quick tune. He settled into his customary chair and fiddled with the strings, remember the notes Lucretia had hummed. He plucked a few strings before he got it right.

Merle nodded. “That's sounds good.”

“The Director was humming it. I really liked it.”

“Oh it's not yours,” Taako said. He picked up a fork. “Explains why it doesn't suck I guess.”

“Funny,” Magnus muttered, and kept playing.

 

* * *

 

Julia had songs.

She had so _many_. She had songs for breakfast and songs for working in the shop. She had songs for doing the dishes and songs she hummed to him after they'd made love, and Magnus would watch her fingers play across his chest, tiptoeing up his nose and threading through his hair.

 _Oh my darling, my sweet darling_  
_It is you I've always loved_  
_And when you hold me, in your arms dear_  
_The gods sing from up above_

She had a song for everything, and so, – Magnus knew them all.

He hummed and played them without thought. When he was getting ready for bed, or whenever they were on a particularly long walk from one point to another. Taako and Merle would ask for them, and eventually they gave him some of their own.

Taako had songs he'd picked up from his television days. Magnus didn't ask why he remembered them, or where they'd come from. Maybe that was bad barding, but it was enough that Taako shared.

Merle had soft hymns he remembered from Pan camp. Magnus liked these, liked the way they were about trees and the sky. Merle would sing along some days, gruffly ask him to stop others.

Songs were different for different people. Even different on some days compared to others. Magnus knew this. Knew it better than anyone.

(he learned a song from phandalin, and he'd play it when he thought of what happened, of the people who died.)

(he learned a hymn for istus – _my lady of fate, take my hand, take the red string wrapped 'round my fingers_ – and played it sometimes, wondering if she was thinking of them.)

 

* * *

 

“Director! Madam Director!” Lucretia turned towards the sound of Magnus's voice. He jogged up to her, grinning ear to ear. “I think I did it.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” He showed her his lute. “The song you were humming. I think I figured it out.” He fiddled with a few strings before he began to play.

It had hit Lucretia the moment Magnus left her office that day – the song she'd hummed should have been static to him, should have always been static to anyone, but...it wasn't. She'd so carefully extracted certain memories, left others in. Magnus could not remember the music he'd learned from the conservatory. He could not remember the year he'd learned the soft, minor keys from the lizardfolk they'd met in cycle 29. He did not know that the Power Bear had given him a beautiful wooden flute, that he'd played it so beautifully she'd nearly wept.

And he did not remember that this song was for her, that it was _his_ –

But he was playing it. Right here in front of her.

She had no idea how this one small thing had slipped by, but standing in the quad, watching her brother play the song he'd written for her to make her smile – Lucretia thought she might _fly._

Magnus stopped playing. “Anyway, I'm not sure if I got it totally right--”

“You did,” she said quietly, and quickly brushed the tears from her cheeks. “You played it _perfectly._ ”

“...Are you alright? I didn't upset you did I? I thought maybe I shouldn't, but you seemed to like the song so much--”

“No, Magnus. Thank you for playing it.” She reached out and touched the end of his lute.

It was not the one he played on the ship. That one was tucked away. Lucretia hadn't laid eyes on it for years. This one had been a gift, she knew.

From Julia.

“It's bee some time since I heard it played. I'm...I'm _grateful_.” She looked at him. “It belongs to you.”

Magnus beamed. “Well, I don't know about that, but I'm really glad you liked it.” He took a step back. “Sorry if I interrupted your day. I'll, uh. I'll get going.” He gave her a wave and jogged off toward the apartments.

Lucretia gripped her staff.

_Hey._

She couldn't stop the smile. And for the first time in a while, she couldn't stop her tears either.

_I wrote you something._

She headed towards her office.

And she hummed.

 

* * *

 

After, Magnus came to stand with her.

He reached down and took her hand. Lucretia looked at him.

“I'm so sorry,” she whispered.

He drew her in and kissed her forehead. “Hey. It's okay.”

“Gods, Magnus, it's not. It's _not_ \--”

“Don't. We can't...we can't do this right now.” He reached down and held her face in his hands. “We have to look ahead, okay? We _have_ to.” Lucretia nodded. “Besides,” he added. “There are songs we have to write about today.”

She laughed. “That's true.”

“We can talk about this, though. If that's what you need. You and me, we can talk, Lu.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. It felt right to be this way with her again. He remembered how they'd gravitated to one another, how young they'd been. He remembered writing silly songs with her late into the night, bringing her with him to meet strange people and hear strange music.

The way he played now was so different from then. Raven's Roost had changed him, given him soft, folkish tones and made his music loose. Made it _real._

And now it was all back, living there in his head. It hurt to think about, just a bit. He had to process it, had to sort through the notes.

But he looked up, and the sky was clear, and his sister was there, and his family was together again.

There would be thousands of songs written about that day, and no one would _ever_ forget Johan's music. Magnus smiled, and thought about all the songs he remembered, the ones he'd collected even after their years on the ship together.

He reached up and touched the strings of his lute, and closed his eyes. There was a note in his bag, one he carried with him wherever he went. The one Julia had written when she gave it to him.

_Mags –_

_Make something beautiful._

He looked out on the world, safe and sound again.

And he thought of something beautiful.

 


End file.
